


empty sighs and (bottles of) wine

by falloutgirl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Minor Character Death, there's very strong Niam friendship because i couldn't help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutgirl/pseuds/falloutgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall rolls his eyes, “Don’t give me that BS, Li. You might as well name your main character Harry since you practically wrote about him anyways.”</p>
<p>Liam at least has the grace to look appalled. “I just used him as a muse! I didn’t write about him!” </p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Liam's an author lacking inspiration and Harry is a waiter at the town diner who just so happens to catch Liam's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	empty sighs and (bottles of) wine

**Author's Note:**

> What was supposed to be 3k words of fluff purely for my own amusement ended up becoming this 11k word monster, because apparently I am incapable of writing something without feelings. This is like 80% Liam being silly and 19% Harry being his hilarious self and 1% angst because I can't write anything sad. Dedicated to all my friends on tumblr who listened to me whine about this fic and laughed at me once I hit my 3k and there was still no end in sight. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is unbeta'd and I won't even pretend I know a thing about London or the British slang aside from the obvious words I see over the web. Just try and bear with me for the sake of fic, and pretend that South London is actually a real place. Thank you so much. I love you all. Happy reading! :)

**Empty Sighs And (Bottles Of) Wine**

Liam finds himself sitting on the balcony, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of cheap gin in the other. He’s overlooking the streets below and the dozens of people making their commute and wonders what it might feel like to fly.

“What are you doing up there?” his best friend – and publicist – Niall asks.

“I’m trying to see if I’d want Jason to be a smoker an alcoholic or both, maybe.” Liam replies, getting down off the ledge. “He needs some _sort_ of inner turmoil and I can’t decide between drugs or suicide, or both.”

“The life of an author is a hard one, say,” Niall snorts.

Liam gives a warm smile, “It sure is.” He snubs the cigarette out and leaves the gin on the balcony table before heading back inside his house. “What brings you here to my humble abode?”

“Deadlines, storylines, plotlines – the usual.” Niall says.

“Storylines and plotlines are the same thing, Niall.” Liam deadpans. Niall just shrugs, “That’s why you’re the writer in this friendship.”

“So. . .” Niall starts and Liam stops him.

“I’m not ready – at least how ready I’d like to be.” Liam takes a deep sigh. Maybe he should’ve brought the gin in with him, he could really use it.

“I know and I understand but –“

“No ‘buts’ Niall, writing the second novel is always the hardest. Everyone knows that.” He swipes a hand across his curly hair, pushing it back against his forehead. It’s not like Liam ever expected his first book to ever get published (they had gone to _four_ places), let alone for it to become an instant best seller, climbing up the ranks as the “highest recommended book for Teens and Young Adults”, as so eloquently quoted by the _New York Times._ It was nothing more than a collection of stories and timestamps from Liam’s childhood – his formative years as a teenager in the closet, all leading up to his acceptance of himself and of everyone’s opinions around him, all strung together into a book with one depressing male lead character and a kaleidoscope of other jovial faces the world around has grown to love. It was _raw_ and _real_ and Liam _knows_ he could never possibly write like that again.

Niall sighs, grabs Liam by the shoulders. “Liam, mate, I know you can do this. You’ve always had a way with the writing and the words – there was a _reason_ you were the top of the class back at Uni. You can _do_ this.”

Liam melts into Niall’s embrace; even though he’s a head taller than him, Niall is still the only friend he has ever really had. “You believe in me far too much,” Liam says, grinning against Niall’s hair.

“I believe in you ‘cause I know you can do this, now c’mon, and write.” Niall hugs back, smiling.

“I will.”

 

Suffice it to say after that whole inspirational speech with Niall, Liam does _not_ write, but opts more for watching Friends all day and eating through four boxes of Tim Tams. He sits on the couch singing _Aerosmith_ to himself and wonders when his life became this – living in a big old house all by himself, being invited to every social event on the calendar – when in high school _and_ college he was fortunate enough to have one acquaintance. Liam thinks he’s lucky. Like, finding-fifty-pounds on-the-ground lucky, or getting an extra nugget from McDonald’s lucky. Liam falls asleep in the same position he was in and dreams of a book that’s completely finished.

 

It’s been _days_ , since he’s last tried to write and Liam knows he’s putting it off big time. His deadline is in a couple months and if he doesn’t meet it well . . . he doesn’t want to know what might happen. He’s in the backyard now, looking for a change of pace and deciding what needs to happen for Jason to have _depth_ , when his cell phone rings. It’s Niall obviously because aside from his parents and sisters Niall’s the only other one in his phone. (He tries not to think how _sad_ that fact is.)

“Hello?”

“Hey, Liam, just calling up to check on your progress, mate. How are you doing?” Niall chatters into the phone. Liam can hear background voices and assumes Niall must be with some friends. It still does come as a shock to Liam when he remembers that Niall is just so _friendly._

“It’s going as well as it’s going to get,” Liam intones, staring off into the sky.

“Ya haven’t written shit, have ya?” Niall asks, humorously.

“Nope.” Liam replies.

Niall sighs. “Maybe –“ he cuts himself off for a bit. Liam thinks he’s probably trying to word this properly. “Find some inspiration!” Niall settles on, “Maybe you just need someone to inspire your character, go out in the world and find a muse.”

Liam makes a noise of protest, “I don’t think I  –“

Niall cuts him off full force this time. “It’s not stalking, okay? Just. Well, maybe it is but you know what I mean. Go to a diner or a restaurant and sit down and observe. Watch how the people interact with each other, maybe their little ticks and the things that make them red in the face.”

“Okay,” Liam agrees. It couldn’t hurt to try.

“Alright, mate. See you soon.” And with that Niall hangs up.

 

It isn’t until around five in the afternoon when Liam takes Niall’s advice and finally leaves his house. Liam drives until he finds a small diner in the middle of South London. It’s a cute little place, red and white tables and chairs and the walls covered with newspaper cutouts and framed posters. He takes a seat in the back corner and when the hostess comes by to ask if he wants a drink he says yes. Liam’s sitting there, reading over the menu when a tall, lanky boy comes out with a glass in his hand. He’s got wildly ridiculous curls – Liam thought his curls were _bad_ , this kid’s on another level – a round baby face framed with these two huge sparkling eyes a shade of green that Liam has never seen.

“Hello,” the boy says with a ridiculously low voice for his face. It resonates in Liam’s ears and shakes his spine. “I’m Harry and I’ll be your server for today. Is there anything I can get you right now?”

Liam takes one long look at _Harry_ – what a fitting name really – and clears his throat. “I’ll have th-the Turkey Club and some more water please.”

Harry repeats his order and when Liam agrees he smiles so hugely Liam thinks his face might break. As Harry walks away Liam tries not to _stare_ at the shape of his butt in those painted on jeans. He slaps himself mentally a couple times. Harry is probably not even _legal._ Christ, Liam thinks. He’s getting _old._

**hw lgn does it tak 2 fall n love???/????**

He shoots off a quick text to Niall and hopes the red on his cheeks isn’t so noticeable.

**_They say u can fall in love in 5 secs !_ **

When Liam reads the reply he _knows_ Niall is just humoring him but. Maybe there’s some truth to that saying – however small it may be.  Liam sits a bit and waits for his server – _Harry,_ his mind supplies to come back out with his order.

**i thnk I found my inpsirationnnn!!**

Liam sends a quick reply back to Niall and receives an even quicker one in response.

**_ya knw 4 an author ya hav the shttiest spelin ave evr seen mate_ **

Liam rolls his eyes at Niall’s text and spots Harry walking towards him out of the corner of his eye.

**Its bc im an autjor that I can hav shty speling but whts ur excse anywys food is here g2ggg!**

Liam quickly shoves his phone away and smiles up at Harry once he reaches the table.

“One Turkey Club and some water.” He places the food right in front of Liam and honestly – it looks delicious. “Anything else I can get you, sir?”

“It’s Liam.” Liam says back automatically. _Sir_ is for _old dudes_. Liam is _not_ an _old dude._

“Okay, Liam. Is there anything else I can get you?” Harry asks, all smiles and warmth and Liam’s known him all of 20 minutes and he already wants to wrap Harry up and take him home with him. Christ.

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

“Holler if you need something.” Harry smiles and with that he departs.

 

That’s how it starts – for Liam anyways. That one small exchange leads him to believe that Harry is the _one_ , the one to break the writer’s block he’s been handling for the last three months – that is. So Liam does as any writer would do (under the grace of Niall as well), and for lack of a better word, _studies_ the intriguing waiter at Main Street Diner. Through carefully calculated questions and an extra smile here and there, Liam finds out that his waiter-muse-inspiration is going to Med School to become a cardiologist. A _Doctor._ Liam marvels internally at the thought. Not only does this new friendship of sorts add color to his rather dull life it sparks the fire within him – the one that made him want to write in the first place – and it doesn’t stop.  

“This is great,” Niall says, as he walks into Liam’s study, seeing him typing out on his computer. “Now, when was the last time you wrote with such enthusiasm?”

Liam doesn’t even look up from where he’s been staring at his laptop screen, trying to make his fingers keep pace with his mind. “I don’t know, actually.” Liam says.

“I don’t think it matters,” Niall says, throwing himself down into the chair opposite the desk. “But I like it.”

“Me too.” Liam agrees, looking up and smiling for what feels like the first time in months.

 

“So, Harry,” Liam says, he’s back at the diner again – writing does work up an appetite, mind you – but, there’s still some little things for his main character that he’s not quite sure about. “If you were faced with a terrible problem what do you think is the better path? Fight? Or Flight?”

Harry gives him that same quizzical look he always does when Liam asks him these off the wall questions, but nevertheless he answers them. “I don’t know really,” Harry says. He knits his eyebrows together in thought. “I think it really depends on how terrible of a problem it is. Like,” Harry pauses, trying to figure out how to word this properly. “Maybe if it was for me – if the problem was for me, I’d run.” Harry laughs loudly and it echoes in Liam’s ears. “I’m a pretty big wimp.” He smiles really big. “But . . . if it was for someone I cared for, I know without a doubt that I’d fight. Even if it meant getting beat up myself.” Harry looks at Liam to make sure he’s answered him correctly and Liam wants to hug him – this big goon doesn’t even blink when Liam asks the dumbest things in the world – just does as he’s asked. (There’s a side of Liam that wants to know how far this ‘just saying yes’ side of Harry goes – but he quickly locks that thought away and hopes it will never resurface.)

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Now is there anything I can get for you, Liam?”

“The usual.”

Harry smiles and nods, already knowing Liam’s order by heart.

He comes back out with the Turkey Club again, this time with a small side of fries.

“What’s this for?” Liam asks.

Harry shrugs. “Just figured you might like something a little different.”

Liam smiles at Harry. “Thank you.” He makes a mental note to add ‘acutely in-tune to people around him’ as a trait for his main character.

 

Liam’s been staring at the computer screen for what feels like _days_ , when Niall jumps on him. That seems to knock him out of whatever stupor he’s set himself in and now he’s trying to slip out from under Niall, but his best friend has his thighs securely wrapped around Liam’s upper legs – effectively locking him in the chair. “Niall what the hell –“

“You’ve been in here for _days_ , mate. Let me take you out.”

“I want a nice dinner first.” Liam says, still trying to escape out of the chair.

Niall rolls his eyes. “What about pizza and then getting drunk afterwards?”

Liam grabs Niall by his shoulders and lifts him off his lap in one go. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

 

Five drinks in and Liam is spectacularly drunk. He wonders for a minute how many drinks it might take for Harry to get this drunk, for his face to be flushed red and his eyes to be sparkling – before Niall comes over and pulls Liam away from the bar and to the dance floor, effectively making him forget what he was thinking about. They’re dancing to whatever song is number one on the radio right now and Liam’s having such a good time, until he spots a familiar someone at the bar. He turns to tell Niall he’s heading back but he’s got some Ridiculously Hot Guy grinding on him so Liam leaves him to that.

“Hey,” He says loudly, hoping Harry will hear him. “What are you doing here at a bar?”

Harry rolls his eyes and laughs. “I work here too, Liam.” He slings that small towel over his shoulder and reaches down for a glass. He fills it up with water and hands it to Liam.

“How did you –“

Harry just shrugs. “I saw how much you’ve been drinking. I figured you might need it.” Liam accepts it and downs it all in one gulp.

“So,” Liam says. “A bar.”

 “Yes,” Harry replies. “Contrary to popular belief I am _old enough_ to work in a bar. Curse this baby face of mine.”

“Oh really?” Liam says. _Thank god,_ he thinks. Now he doesn’t have to feel so bad about that dream he had of Harry the other night that may or may not have involved Harry dancing for him. Naked. In front of a bunch of mirrors.

“Yes!” Harry says with slight annoyance in his voice but Liam knows it’s not directly aimed at him. “Well, how old did you think I was?”

Liam looks to the side trying to avoid Harry’s gaze. “Eighteen . . . “ Liam mumbles, looking down.

“Christ,” Harry says. “I am twenty-two years old! You’d think by _now_ I’d look like it.”

Liam reaches out a hand to Harry’s shoulder and maybe it’s the alcohol – oh it’s _definitely_ the alcohol – but Harry doesn’t flinch away so Liam counts that as a win. “Don’t worry, Harry. I’m twenty-five, soon to be twenty six and I’m pretty sure I look thirty.”

Harry moves back to inspect Liam’s features and suddenly Liam feels uncomfortable. He’s never had all of Harry’s attention before, well at least not in this way – where he’s actually soaking in the way Liam looks rather than asking what he wants to eat. “You don’t look thirty,” Harry says. He’s got some kind of unreadable expression on his face but Liam’s not sure. He assumes it’s just all the drinks he’s had that are clouding his judgment. “You look . . . I don’t know how to say it. But you look good.” Harry’s face sort of tinges red at that but Liam’s not sure whether he’s just seen Harry blush or if the flashy lights of the dance floor have just hit Harry’s face. He’s quite sure it’s the latter. Before Liam can compose himself enough to respond, Harry’s being flagged down to the other side of the bar and Niall’s suddenly all up in his space.

“So,” Niall says without a slur because apparently Niall never has to suffer the effects of being drunk. “Is that him then?”

Liam nods.

“Nice choice, Li.” Niall breaks off into a peal of laughter. Liam turns around to push Niall over and he notices the same boy that was dancing with Niall earlier standing right behind him. Niall notices Liam’s change of expression and clears his throat.

“Liam, this is Zayn.” Zayn reaches a hand out to shake Liam and gives him a small smile. “He’s one of my friends from the publishing firm, yeah? Zayn likes to draw.” Zayn just ducks his head down sheepishly and plays with his hands.

“We’re gonna leave, okay?” Niall says and he’s already walking away with Zayn in tow. Liam just nods his head and goes back to the bar.

“Friends are leaving you, huh?” Liam turns around and there’s Harry again, wiping the bar down with the towel usually kept at his shoulder. This is a totally different side of his waiter-friend-muse that’s Liam’s never seen before. At the diner Harry is all big smiles and bright eyes and polite manners. But here at this club, Harry’s eyes are dark and daunting, a playful smirk on his lips that’s inviting you to look but never touch. It makes Liam’s ribs rattle with how many different kinds of _Harry_ there could be – he’s only seen two and Liam craves more.

“Yeah, I guess. Well the blonde one is my friend, the other one is his worker companion I think. I think Niall’s gonna drop him home.”

Harry at least has the decency to bite back his laughter. “Liam, I hate to break it to you, but I think that was your friend’s boyfriend.”

“His what?” Liam exclaims almost choking on the water Harry just gave him.

“You know his _boyfriend_ – his buddy on the streets but his freak in the sheets – “ Liam cuts Harry off with a hand. “I could have gone my whole life without _that_ comparison.” Harry shrugs. “Liam, trust me. That is your friend Niall’s boyfriend.”

Liam stares at his glass for a long time. _He’s_ supposed to be the observant one. “Fill her up,” Liam says, “Scotch, please.”

Harry doesn’t even try to muffle his laughter this time.

 

Liam’s staring out the window of his house overlooking his backyard when he sees a familiar someone coming into his view. 

“Hey, man! How are things coming along?”

Liam doesn’t ever bother with the pleasantries and just right out and says it. “When were you going to tell me that you were in a relationship?”

Niall at least tries to look sheepish. “It never came up . . .?” He answers but it comes out more along the lines of a question.

Liam just rubs a hand on his forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out from Harry!”

That stops Niall in his tracks. “How did he know?”

Liam waves his arms around. “I don’t know he’s good with the thing and the _knowing_ . . .” Liam just keeps waving his arms around trying to emphasize.

Niall just shrugs. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, Li. I just figured what with the book and the pressure I didn’t want you to have to worry about me too.”

Liam grabs Niall’s arms and pulls him into a hug. “I always worry about you, Niall. You’re my best friend.” Niall hugs him back tightly. “It’s alright, man.”

Niall pulls away and smiles at Liam. “Maybe introducing you two at a club might not have been my greatest idea.” Liam rolls his eyes, “No way.”

“But don’t worry, soon I’ll properly introduce you too and it’ll be great you’ll love him Liam I know you will.”

“I look forward to meeting your ‘buddy on the streets’.”

“What?” Niall asks. “Liam just shrugs. “Something Harry said.”

 Niall nods along okay to that before he’s squishing Liam over to the arm of the couch and wrestling the remote out of his hands.

 

“Do you have any hobbies, Harry? Other than serving delicious food and getting me drunker than the moon.” Liam asks as he sips his cup of coffee. It’s raining a ridiculous amount outside and he’s soaked through his jacket.

“Hey!” Harry protests. “You asked for that fifth shot of Scotch. I merely listen to what the customer always says.” Harry’s smiling at him again but it’s not the usual big smile Liam always receives. It’s smaller, less loud and makes his eyes shine bright. Liam thinks he’s gotten to the real Harry. Well, almost, anyways.

“You are an enabler of my bad habits!” Liam laughs. A few heads turn their direction but the majority of the people on the diner don’t even bat an eye.

Harry just rolls his eyes. “We’ll see what you’ll be saying when I deny you drinks after the third round.”

“I’m shaking,” Liam feigns being afraid. He’s never felt _so_ alive. “The usual?” Harry asks. And Liam wants to say yes, but. Maybe it’s time for a change. He picks the first thing he sees and Harry gives him a skeptical look. “Are you sure?” Harry asks.

“Yes,” Liam answers making hand motions. “I’m sure.”

Harry just nods his head and heads away to turn in Liam’s order.

**_where r u ?_ **

Liam looks at his phone and reads the quick text from Niall before replying.

**@ th diner wher els wud i be**

It doesn’t even take him a minute before Niall’s text comes back. And since he doesn’t see his food yet Liam figures he’ll just text Niall a bit while he’s waiting.

**_so ur chattin w/ ur beloved eh ??_ **

**hes nt my belvod nial!!**

**_whose nial ?_ **

**shuttt uppp loserr harys just a friend!!!!**

**_yea a friend u wanna duck_ **

**_i meant fuck stupid phne_ **

**so wat!!!!! i dnt like him lik tht!!1!!!!**

**_sure_ **

Liam doesn’t have a chance to reply back to Niall’s text before Harry’s back and placing the plate of food in front of Liam. He sets down a tall glass of –

“Is this milk?” Liam asks, incredulous.

“Yes,” Harry quips, eyes playful. Liam feels like he’s missing the punch line to some very important joke. He merely shrugs and lifts his burger up, taking one huge bite.

It doesn’t hit him until he realizes that his mouth isn’t burning from the food being freshly cooked but from it being _spicy as fuck_. Liam makes a very sad whimpering noise and Harry starts laughing something horrible, his hands balanced on his knees as he tries to keep himself up right. About half of the customers have turned their way before dismissing them entirely for being dumb twenty-something year olds. Liam grabs the glass of milk and relaxes his shoulders as it glides down his throat, much like how his hands will glide around Harry’s neck after he’s decided how to kill him. Because he’s definitely going to.

Liam can’t really feel his tongue but he starts speaking anyways. “That was really ‘picy – spicy,” he says. It feels like he’s talking around a cotton ball. “Why didn’t you tell me it was spicy?”

Harry meets his eyes, “I merely do as the customer always asks.” Harry is smirking and Liam wants to punch him in his stupid pretty face.

Liam rolls his eyes and is about to order the usual because he’s still ridiculously hungry and maybe he’ll take that burger home for Niall since he devours anything within an arm’s reach, before Harry is producing a plate of his order from behind his back like he’s some kind of fucking magician and maybe Liam isn’t that mad at him anymore.

“How did you know?” Liam inquires.

Harry shrugs. “You always ask me that same question every time I do something or say something you didn’t expect. Just believe me when I tell you – I pick up on these things.”

Liam nods. “Alright.” Harry just smiles and waves at him. “Enjoy your food, Liam. And try not to cry this time.”

“I did _not_ cry!” He yells back but Harry has already disappeared to the other side of the diner.

 

“I told you that you’d love him!” Niall whispers while he and Liam are in the kitchen getting drinks. Niall’s invited Zayn over for Liam to properly meet him for the first time and well, Liam has absolutely nothing bad to say about him.

“Yes, you did say that.” Liam knocks his shoulder with Niall’s and his drink almost spills out. “Watch it, Payne!” He shouts, laughing, as he makes his way back to the seating area.

Liam follows soon after, sitting in the big chair all by himself while Niall and Zayn have strategically squeezed themselves together in the loveseat. It’s actually quite an endearing sight to see, once you get past Niall’s squeals and Zayn’s grunts whenever one of them moves even the slightest on the chair.

“So, Zayn,” Liam clears his throat. “Where do you work at?”

Zayn looks to Niall first before answering Liam’s question. “I work at the same publishing firm as Niall does,” Zayn clears his throat, “But I’m an illustrator for the children’s books.”

“So you draw things, huh?” Liam asks.

That gets Zayn to smile really big. “Yes! I draw the art for children’s books or and some of the murals on the school!” Zayn looks to Niall again and he’s smiling so big – like he’s a proud parent or something. Niall squeezes Zayn’s thigh and grabs his hand. Liam thinks he might _die_ from how affectionate these two are.

Zayn stays for two hours longer before Niall wants them to head out, eyes tired with sleep. Zayn whispers something to Niall and he nods waving to Liam, “I’ll see you outside, Zayn.” Zayn nods back and Liam’s not sure what’s going to happen – until Zayn produces out of his satchel a small book, with worn edges and a blue and black cover.

“It’s mine,” Liam says, awed.

“Yeah,” Zayn says, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda helped me in the long run, you know? Mom bought it for me when it first came out – kinda helped me _open_ my eyes and. I don’t know, accept myself, I guess? So, I owe you one.” Zayn hands Liam the book and a marker to autograph it.

Liam takes the book and signs it handing it back to Zayn. “Actually, no you don’t. It’s more like I owe you. I’ve never seen Niall happier than I have tonight. So, thank you for that, Zayn.”

Zayn shrugs, playing off nonchalance but he can’t stop the smile spreading across his face and his eyes from shining. “Yeah, he’s cute.” Zayn waits for a beat or two before just enveloping Liam in a hug. “Thanks man.” He says, and Liam just hugs him back, patting his back.

Zayn steps away and heads for the door, waving good bye.

 

Liam gets to the diner for his almost daily date-but-not-really-a-date-thing he has with Harry, when all of a sudden another waiter comes up to his table. He’s this small little thing but Liam can tell from the set of his jaw and the sway of his hips that he isn’t one to be messed with. He’s got a soft fringe of hair across his forehead and ridiculously blue eyes that Liam is sure would be a sin to get lost in. His new waiter is _pretty_.

“Hello, I’m Louis.” The waiter says and his voice is high and quite lovely really. “I’m your server today is there anything I can get you to start off with?”

“I’ll have a decaf, please.” Liam says. He thinks he’ll take his time, maybe Harry’s just running a little late.

“No problem.” Louis says as he bounds off.

Ten minutes later and two cups of coffee but Harry still hasn’t showed. Liam thinks for a second this could be his off day but then he remembers that Harry said he worked every day.

When Louis comes back around for the second time to ask if Liam’s ready to order, he relents and does. “I’ll have the Turkey Club, please,” Liam says. “With some water, if you don’t mind.” Louis nods but before he leaves Liam just has to ask him.

“Hey, Louis!” Liam calls and Louis turns on his heel and walks back.

“Yes?”

“What happened to the other waiter here? Harry?”

“Oh,” Louis whispers like it’s some kind of secret. “Harry’s taken this day off for the last four years straight. It’s the day his mum died.”

Liam looks at Louis with incredulous eyes and a shocked countenance. Harry’s _mourning._ This boy with the unbridled confidence and aspirations to be a heart doctor, the one with the cheeky grins and sly smiles, his uncanny ability to just _know_ things and make ridiculously good drinks. It’s an entirely _new_ side to Harry he’s never seen before and Liam just soaks it in – lets it simmer in his brain before forming a response for Louis.

“Oh,” is all he’s able to articulate, before Louis nods and walks back to place in Liam’s order. He decides he needs to text Niall quick about this.

**haryrs not herreee**

Liam doesn’t think Niall will text back like lightning since it’s like eight am, but the answering response comes back within five minutes, nevertheless.

**_Why th fuck are ya texting me at bitch o’ clock in th fukcin morning_ **

**Becase harys not here!!!!!!**

**_It amzes me hw u always misspell his name its 5 fuckin letters liam_ **

**Shuuttt up nail!!! Harys not here louis said it’s because hes morning**

**_who in the seven hells is Louis nd dnt ya mean mourning_ **

**yesss I do and hes another waiter here**

**_well alright since u woke me up u better buy me some food_ **

**okayyyy ill get som 4 zayb too**

**_hw did u know ??_ **

**a trick I learned fr harry**

At that moment Louis comes out with Liam’s plate of food and he immediately discards his phone. Louis gives him a small smile eyes bouncing back and forth between Liam’s face and his food before he says, “Are you Liam?”

Liam looks up and nods, “Yeah, that’s me.” And Liam thinks Louis is going to mention his book or something and ask him to sign it but instead Louis says, “So _you’re_ the Liam that Harry’s always going on about!”

That’s enough to make Liam choke on his food. “Harry – he talks about me?”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Never _stops_ talking about you, mate. It’s pretty ridiculous actually.”

Liam tries to swallow around the food lodged in his throat. “So you and Harry are good friends?”

Louis shrugs. “Not really, I’d say. We work at different times so I hardly see him except when he does the odd Sunday shift.”

“Oh,” Liam says. He doesn’t know what _this_ means. Harry talking about him to his coworker. “Well, thanks, Louis.”

Louis nods and leaves Liam to his food.

Liam gets home and finds Niall already sitting on his couch munching on snacks from Liam’s fridge. He tosses him the bag with the burgers he bought from the diner and quickly escapes to his study. Liam stares at his computer screen for a very long time before starting to write. He thinks his main character could use another layer, maybe. Liam writes well into the afternoon, and he doesn’t stop until he realizes he’s nearly done with the book. He’s got four hundred pages on Word right now and he’s nearly _there._ This is where he’d been trying to get to for so long that it’s almost surreal. Liam decides that’s enough for the night and retires to his bed.

He dreams of a big smile, viciously deep laughter, and eyes like the night stars.

 

“I really love this character,” Liam says. “I really love him.”

Niall looks up from his phone and meets Liam’s eyes. “Is that a bad thing . . .? Or?”

Liam laughs, “It’s a great thing, Niall.”

“So,” Niall says, “What’s your MC’s new name?”

Liam stutters. “Harley,” is what he says.

Niall’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Harley? Really, Liam?”

“What are you talking about?”

Niall rolls his eyes, “Don’t give me that BS, Li. You might as well name him Harry since you based it off him anyways.”

Liam at least has the grace to look appalled. “I just used him as a muse! I didn’t write about him!”

Niall jumps across the desk and into Liam’s lap before he can even blink twice. “’Harley shakes his head to the side and presses his growing curls back, before sneezing. He tries for a smile in the mirror and ends up looking like he’s about to split his face –‘”

“Those are just happenstances – nothing more. He is based off Harry anyways, so.”

Niall scrolls through the document further. “Why does Harley have ‘eyes a distant shade of green – like looking into the darkest forest in the universe and finding all your secrets’? Liam, when did you become a teenage girl?”

Liam pushes Niall off and stands. “I did not write about Harry! He was merely inspiration!”

“Then why did you change the name of your MC from Jason to Harley?”

Liam shrugs, “Jason seemed too rugged. I needed a softer name.”

“Oh, really?” Niall says, wearing a goofy grin.

“Yes, really! The fact that it just might happen to sound close to Harry is merely a coincidence!”

Niall gives him this _look_ and Liam wants to slap his cheeks. “Whatever makes you sleep at night,” he says before erupting into vicious laughter.

 

The thing is – it doesn’t make Liam sleep at night. He’s tossing and turning going over what Niall said about his character and the similarities he may or may not have towards his real life friend-waiter-muse that he just has to go and check over his work. He opens up the word document and reads from the beginning. Liam’s never been that big of a fan of reading his work before its completely finished because he knows he’s so critical of everything he does but this time it’s different. He’s scrolling through page after page of words written about his male character who struggles with the hard life of living as a college student on a small salary, trying to prove his worth to his family and everyone around him – while juggling two jobs, overbearing friends and the death of his mother.

Halfway through reading his work Liam flips the lid to his laptop shut and stares at nothing for a very long time.

“Fuck,” is what he says to the darkness in front of him.

 

“I have to tell him, Niall!” Liam says into his phone. It’s been a week since he had that realization and its making him feel so bad.

“I don’t know, mate. Maybe that might not be a great idea.” Niall responds.

“I’ll just. I’m gonna.” Liam hangs up the phone before he can hear Niall’s response and starts heading over to the diner. It’s the longest fifteen minute drive Liam’s ever taken and he can hear the ticking of his watch as the seconds pass by.

When he arrives he sits down in his usual booth and stares at the table.

“Hey, Liam! Wanna try that special again?” He doesn’t have to see the face to know the voice and who it belongs too. Liam’s heart stutters in his chest and he can feel his arms shaking. “Harry,” he says.

Harry seems very on point – more so than usual – and quickly asks him, “What’s wrong?”

“I –“ Liam starts but doesn’t get to finish around the lump in his throat. “I wrote about you,” he says in a quick dash, voice shaky.

“What?” Harry asks.

Liam takes one deep breath. “I wrote about you.”

Harry steps back and looks at Liam for a long time. “You . . .” his voice trails off and he’s shaking his head.

“I didn’t mean to, Harry! You have to understand I just. I _needed_ a muse. I needed inspiration and then I came to this diner and there you were and you were so – you were so _interesting_ and _different_ and it was an accident, I’m sorry!”

Harry hasn’t said a word since Liam told him and a few people in the diner have turned their way. Liam can hear the blood rushing behind his ears and the steady beat of his heart as it’s pounding recklessly in his chest – just about ready to give in.

“I think . . .you need to leave.” Harry says and it’s so quiet and so small that Liam thinks he might die.

“Alright,” He says, “okay.”

Liam grabs his coat and his phone from the booth and just as he’s walking out the door he hears Harry calling his name.

“Don’t come back, yeah?”

And Liam tries not to cry until he gets to his car.

 

“Liam!” Niall shouts and he’s outside his bedroom door, pounding.

“’S open,” Liam mumbles into his pillow. Niall comes barging in, hands on his hips and glasses up in his hair and if Liam didn’t feel like absolute shit he might even laugh. “Dude,” Niall says, “when was the last time you left this shithole of a room?”

“My room is not a shithole, Niall.” Liam says, covering his face with the pillow. There’s some pizza boxes all over the place and maybe a bunch of food wrapper but really – why does it matter to Niall anyways?

“C’mon, I’m sick of your moping, let’s go.” Niall rushes over to where Liam has strategically laid himself down on the bed and flips him over. “Either you get into the shower by your own devices or I shower you myself.” Niall says.

Liam, who is now currently on the floor wonders when Niall developed the arm strength necessary to do flip him out of bed. “I think I’ll shower myself if you don’t mind.”

Niall nods and leaves Liam’s room, “I’ll be waiting for you out here!” He shouts.

Liam finally gets up and heads to the bathroom. He tries not to look in the mirror for fear of inducing Medusa’s curse. He gets in the shower and tries to wash away all the disgusting body smells he’s accumulated during his Cry Fest. Once he’s done, Liam heads out of his bedroom and sees Niall sitting there watching some game on the TV.

“C’mon, Liam! Derby’s playing! It’s gonna be a good one!”

Liam sees how happy Niall is and in that moment he wants nothing more that to be that too. _Happy._ So Liam sits down on the couch next to Niall and cheers for a team he’s never watched before. Him and Niall eat through almost two whole boxes of pizza and two six packs of beer and it’s reminiscent of Liam’s days in college – when being a big author was just a pipe dream. Niall doesn’t ever bring up Harry at all throughout the game and it’s nice. It reminds Liam how great of a friend Niall is makes his heart swell in adoration for his best friend.

Around midnight, Liam finds himself still sitting on the couch, Niall snoring away on his shoulder. He’s idly watching a program but his mind keeps replaying what happened at the diner. He tries to come up with a better way he could’ve handled it. Maybe if he didn’t say it like _that_ or maybe if he had brought _flowers_ – but Liam’s mind comes up blank every time. He repositions himself and Niall so they’re laying side by side and finally, Liam closes his eyes trying to get some sleep.

 

Liam’s woken up by the savory smell of bacon and eggs and the sweet scent of nothing other than syrup. For a second, Liam wonders if he’s still in his own house because last he checked, Niall couldn’t cook food to save his life. He gets up from his somewhat uncomfortable position on the couch and stretches. As he tries to regain his wits he can hear voices not too far away in the kitchen and instantly recognizes Niall’s voice.

“I don’t know,” Niall says and Liam strains to hear what the other person is saying.

“Just. Give him time,” a small, husky voice says and it’s not ‘til then that Liam realizes its Zayn. He gets up from the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, seeing Zayn and Niall eye-locked in some important discussion before Niall averts his gaze to Liam.

“Good morning, champ! How was your sleep?”

“It could have been worse,” Liam yawns. “But I’m sure I had one too many beers, my head is hurting so much. And you kick in your sleep.”

“He does,” Zayn smirks, flipping the pancakes.

“Hey!” Niall says, “It’s too early for my sleeping habits to be evaluated and cross examined by my best friend and boyfriend! I won’t stand for this!” Niall does this really dramatic gesture that involves his arms flailing and him ending up on the ground.

“Smells good, Zayn,” Liam says, pulling out a chair on the bar next to Niall.

“You can’t have him,” Niall eyes Liam with his ‘ _this is my shiny new toy’_ look and Liam wouldn’t put it past Niall to do something horrid. Like shave his hair off or tattoo a dick on his face. Liam shudders to think about the things Niall is capable of.

“Yeah,” Zayn says, ignoring Niall. “Niall here can’t cook to save his life and he told me he was hungry so I figured it’d be alright if I stopped by and cooked . . . ? If that’s okay?” Zayn looks so apprehensive and Liam wants to smother him with hugs. If Niall might actually allow that.

Liam shrugs. “I don’t really cook much either, you’re welcome anytime.”

“With me!” Niall shouts, making grabby hands for the bacon and then dropping it when it burns his hands.

“Your fault,” Liam laughs, while Niall runs his hand under some cold water.

 

The thing is, Liam always imagined when his heart broke that the world might spontaneously come to a halt and work slowly backwards, bringing him back to the exact moment when everything went pear-shaped and give him a chance to redo. But life is not an Adam Sandler movie and time keeps moving forward.

So Liam does, too.

With all the extra time on his hands from not having been to the diner in a long while he finishes the book with two weeks to spare until his deadline. It’s a teary affair, Niall even bringing a bottle of champagne to celebrate the end of a long and arduous era. Liam drinks more bubbly than he can manage but the book is done and over with and that’s a chapter in his life he doesn’t have to deal with anymore. He focuses more now, on trying to attend the social events he gets invited too and even makes a couple friends in other authors who adored his book and were highly gratified to see him write another.

Liam tries never to be home longer than one hour at a time and if that means spending the hours he’s not out at Niall’s house then so be it. So far, Niall doesn’t really seem to mind at all. It isn’t until the day his book is set to be released that Liam starts to have a panic attack.

“What if he hates it?” Liam asks, pacing back and forth in Niall’s flat.

“Liam, stop running back and forth, you’re gonna make an impression in my floor.” Niall says, trying to watch the game but failing since Liam’s blocking the way.

 “Niall! What if he hates it?” Liam’s really starting to feel sick about this whole thing again and he swore he thought he had it all under control.

“Liam,” Niall whispers and he’s turned the TV off now, eyes focused solely on Liam. “Hey, hey, look at me,” Niall says and makes grabby hands for Liam’s wrists. He holds them tightly in his and forces Liam to look in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks alright? You are a _great_ writer, and his opinion doesn’t – will _not –_ matter.”

Liam tries to even out his breathing. “Alright,” he says, and drops the subject. Niall pulls Liam down onto the couch beside him and snuggles up into his side. “You’ve still got me, Li.” Niall says into Liam’s chest.

“What about Zayn?” Liam laughs and pulls Niall tighter to him.

“I love Zayn,” Niall announces. Liam looks down at him with an incredulous countenance but Niall just smiles. “I do. Love him, that is. But he’ll never be my number one. That’ll always be you.”

Liam squeezes Niall tighter to him, placing a small kiss on his cheek. He tries to remember why he never went after Niall in college – why he and Niall didn’t end up being a thing. But then he’s reminded of the way Niall looks at Zayn and how there’s too much love in his gaze that sometimes Liam has to look away. And then he’s reminded of a head of unruly curls and vibrantly forest green eyes – legs that go on for days and a smile so big, bigger than the moon even. He’s reminded of all his hopes and dreams all bottled into one person and that person working two jobs to go to Medical School. He remembers _Harry._ And then Liam knows exactly what he has to do.

 

The book comes out to a huge success, more than Liam could have ever imagined. But it doesn’t sit right with him, it being number one. He tosses and turns and feels _bad_ because this was a book that accidentally became something short of an unofficial biography on his waiter-muse-ex-friend Harry. He doesn’t want to even know what Harry’s thinking right now. Probably planning his murder is what Liam thinks. He doesn’t do it intentionally, but slowly Liam starts to go back in on himself and stay inside his house again and do nothing but watch Friends all day. It isn’t until around the ninth or tenth day of his book being number one and Liam being more or less thrilled about it that Niall comes barging into his house at around midnight drinks in hand.

“You’re moping,” Niall says in way of greeting, throwing himself down onto the sofa with Liam.

“Am not,” Liam responds trying to save the last real shred of dignity he has left.

“You are,” Niall says and he pops open a beer bottle. It fizzes a little bit and runs down his arms but Niall doesn’t seem to care.

“Why are you here?” Liam asks and it comes out a bit harsher than he wanted to but it’s late and he just wants to _mope_ and Niall is ruining his plans.

Niall shrugs, “Figured I’d find you like this,” he sips his beer and places a hand on Liam’s knee. “Remember back in college when I first got you drunk? And you were dancing on the tables in Aidan’s dorm, swinging your shirt around your head?”

Liam cringes, “I really try to forget about that.” Niall laughs and continues on, “Well, remember the day after and then you told me why you were so eager to get shit-faced? Cause what’s-her-face broke your heart?”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees. He remembers telling her – _Megan_ – how he had felt and remembers her laughing in his face and dropping her drink on him. Liam was never as embarrassed as he was then and vowed never to let that happen to him, ever. “That was so pitiful.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Niall chimes. “You were hurt and you reacted. Then two months later you told me you were gay. It’s funny how things work out isn’t it?” Niall takes one long sip of his beer and moves himself so his head is in Liam’s lap. “You moved on, and maybe. Maybe it’s time again –“

“I miss him,” Liam interjects loudly.

“I know,” Niall agrees. “But either you do something about it Li – with him. Or you move on. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Liam sighs loudly. “I know,” he says, “I’ll do something about it. I promise.”

“Good,” Niall says, “Now budge over, I’m tired and I want to sleep.”

That makes Liam smile. “Don’t you have your own house, your own bed?” Liam laughs but he’s moving himself over on the sofa anyway, so that he and Niall can fit.

“Yeah,” Niall says, “but you’re more comfortable,” Niall squeezes himself impossible tighter against Liam’s chest, face in the crook of Liam’s neck.

“You’ll do the right thing, Li, I know you will.” Liam pulls Niall tighter to his body. “Thank you,” Liam whispers to Niall.

“For what?” Niall asks mid-yawn.

“I don’t know,” Liam says, “for believing me in after all these years, for being my best friend.” Liam can feel Niall’s smile against his neck.

“You know that I love you, right?” Niall says, voice sleep-heavy.

“I know,” Liam replies, sleep finally settling over his bones.

He closes his eyes.

 

**_r ya sure ths is the rite thng t do_ **

Liam stares at Niall’s text for a long time before replying.

**yes**

The response doesn’t come back until Liam’s getting out of his car and walking towards the front doors of the diner, the hood of his jacket pulled up over his head.

**_Good luck mate ! proud of ya_ **

Liam closes out Niall’s text and takes a seat at one of the booths. _His_ booth. There’s a menu already on the table but Liam’s not hungry. It’s been over a month since he’s been at this place and since he’s seen his waiter-turned-muse-turned-friend-turned-maybe-something-more. Liam can hear Harry’s voice from afar, probably waiting on the tables near him, having not yet noticed Liam’s arrival.

He waits until he hears the familiar greeting before turning towards Harry. Liam looks up at his face and watches the smile he had fall away, replaced by an angry look of hurt and amusement.

“I thought I told you to never come back?” Harry’s voice sounds like venom to Liam’s ears – like he’s a pit viper and Liam keeps jumping back into the hole to grab at him.

“I miss you,” Liam says, voice small. He lets the hood of his jacket down and glances at Harry’s face. He’s got bags under his eyes and his hair is more unruly than Liam last remembers. But his eyes are showing an emotion Liam’s never before seen, a cross between confusion and sadness, maybe. Liam looks back down at the table and grabs his bag, taking a book out of it. He lays the book down on the table.

“I wanted you to have it,” Liam says. It’s a copy of the book he wrote about Harry. The cover is a dark forest green – like Harry’s eyes and the title is in a looping script that kinda looks like something Harry could’ve wrote. “I miss you,” Liam says again before he picks his bag up and walks out the door of the diner, not even giving Harry a chance to reply.

 

A week passes after Liam stopped by the diner to give Harry the book. A part of him knows that Harry could’ve easily just thrown it away, right after Liam left – but there’s another side of him that wants to believe that Harry could have taken the book home and read it. Liam feels more inclined to believe the latter. It’s late in the afternoon and Niall’s already left, gone to go and have dinner with Zayn and Liam might just throw a fit over how cute the two of them are. He’s about ready to just call it a day when he hears a knock on his door. It strikes him as strange at first because the only person who ever stops by his house never knocks and usually greets him with a shout or by spilling his beer. The knock comes again and it’s louder this time, so Liam goes to the door and answers it.

When Liam pulls the door open, his lungs collapse out of his chest and he doesn’t think he can breathe anymore because right there in front of him is one _Harry Styles._

It takes a few good minutes for Liam to register that it’s actually Harry, and a few more to soak in his appearance. He’s wearing loose fitting sweat pants and an oversized pullover, his hair kept back with a headband and running shoes on his feet.

“Hel – Hello?” Liam greets but it comes out more as a question.

“Hi,” Harry says, cheeks red and Liam glances out the door to see there’s no car and judging from how hard Harry’s breathing, he poor lad must’ve ran here.

“How did you . . . ?” Liam asks and his voice trails off because while he’s not averse to having one sweaty Harry on his front steps he would like to know how the hell he found his house.

“Google,” Harry breathes out trying to catch his breath; he’s leaning against the frame of the door and takes a few more seconds to compose himself. “I found your house on Google.”

“Right.” Liam says because sometimes he forgets that his house address is listed on his website.

A startling silence settles over the two of them until Harry breaks it. “I read the book.” He says before reaching behind his back and producing the same copy that Liam had given him a week ago. The corners of the book look worn down and Liam can see some sections that have been dog-eared.

Liam stares at Harry for a long time and thinks, _this is it_ , and how he feels about the book would be the be-all to end-all for his feelings for this lad. When Liam sees Harry open his mouth, preparing himself for the verbal beating he was expecting, he’s surprised to hear something entire different.

“Why doesn’t Harley have a love interest?”

Of all questions or criticisms Harry could’ve laid down about the book, Liam wasn’t expecting that one at all. He wracks his brain trying to think up a good explanation, but every time he thinks he’s figured one out, it doesn’t make any sense.

Liam just shrugs. “I didn’t think it was pertinent,” is what he settles on. “Harley having a love interest wasn’t important to the book.” Liam realizes that it’s dark and Harry still standing outside on the front step so he moves his body and motions for Harry to walk in. Harry does, and Liam closes the door behind him.

Harry glances around Liam’s house – he still hasn’t said anything about Liam’s response. He looks thoughtful, Liam thinks, hand on his chin like he’s contemplating something.

“I think,” Harry clears his throat, “there’s someone for every character, no matter who they are.” In one swift movement and before Liam can even blink, Harry’s lips are on his.

It takes two full minutes for the beating of Liam’s heart to go back down – for his hands at his sides to stop shaking and for him to start kissing Harry back. He grabs him tightly, fisting his hands in Harry’s curls, which are so unnaturally _soft._ Harry’s making these _noises_ against Liam’s lips and Liam just opens his mouth and starts licking into Harry’s. He takes what he’s been craving for, what he’s been dreaming of for months and kisses Harry like it’s the last thing he might ever do. Liam licks along the roof of Harry’s mouth making him moan loudly and tries to memorize the sound he makes when Liam tugs on his hair _just so._ He kisses Harry until he can’t taste anything but Harry, pulls his face closer to his like if he gave Harry an inch he might just run away.

“I’ve wanted to do this,” Harry breathes into Liam’s mouth. “Since the day you walked in,” He moved his mouth to Liam’s throat sucking hard at his birthmark.  

Liam squeezes his eyes shut and takes four deep breaths through his mouth. “Harry –“

“Shh,” Harry says, placing a hand on Liam’s lips. “Don’t talk.”

“Harry, I –“

“Liam,” Harry says and his voice is stern. He stops what he’s doing and looks hard into Liam’s eyes. The weight of Harry’s gaze makes Liam want to turn away, but Harry’s holding his face in his hands and keeping their eyes locked.

“We can talk, okay,” Harry breathes out, eyes never looking away. “But I’ve been waiting too long for _this_ and what I really want is for you to just.” Harry looks down for a second and Liam thinks he might actually be blushing. “I want you to fuck me.” He says, right into Liam’s eyes, gaze unmoving. Liam can feel his dick twitch in excitement at that proposal and really. Who is he to say no?

“Okay,” Liam breathes, “I can do that.”

“Right,” Harry nods, smirking. Liam grabs Harry’s hand and leads him to his bedroom; the walk is quiet except for the sound of their joined breathing. When Liam opens the door, Harry wastes no time in pinning him back to it, his mouth back on Liam’s lips. Liam kisses back roughly, his tongue licking Harry’s bottom lip making him moan even louder.

“The bed, bed, bed,” Liam chants, moving Harry and himself backward. Harry falls with a thump onto his bed, legs hanging off the front. He scoots his body up higher, resting his head on Liam’s pillows while Liam hovers over him.

“Take this off,” Harry voices, pulling at Liam’s shirt. Liam quickly takes his shirt off over his head in one swift movement, exposing his bare chest. Harry runs his hands up and down over Liam’s body before resting his hands on Liam’s collarbones. Liam makes quick work of taking off Harry’s pullover and at the same time Harry sheds his sweats. Liam examines Harry’s body like he’s hungry for it – like this will be the first and last time Harry will ever let him see it.

“A butterfly?” Liam says, trying to suppress his laughter.

“I was nineteen, alright, it was a _mistake_.” Harry’s moving his hands to his stomach to try and cover up the insect when Liam bats his hands away.

“It works for you,” Liam says, taking his own pants off now. “I don’t think anyone else could pull off a butterfly, or two birds.”

Harry rolls his eyes but there’s no mistaking the _fond_ that’s there. “Are you here to discuss my brilliant tattoos or are you here to fuck me?”

“Right,” Liam says and quickly gets to work and taking off Harry’s underwear. He’s hard already, Liam can see through the fabric and when he pulls his underwear down Harry’s dick comes up and hits against his stomach. Liam takes Harry in his hand, pumping slowly up and down, before bringing his mouth back onto Harry’s. He starts kissing Harry again, moving his body between Harry’s legs so he can rut into him properly. When their dicks rub against each other Liam lets out a breathy moan while Harry closes his eyes. “Liam,” he breathes out. “Get on with it.”

Liam sits up on the backs of his legs, letting go of Harry’s dick and reaching over to the nightstand for some lube and a condom. He takes the bottle into his hands and pours a generous amount on his fingers before pushing one slowly past the rim of Harry’s hole. Liam works one finger into Harry, thrusting it back and forth until Harry’s demanding another. Liam works two, then three into Harry and he’s finally got a good rhythm, Harry rocking back hard on his fingers. He brushes against Harry’s bundle of nerves, making Harry gasp out and moan, his body going tight all over.

“Gonna need you to fuck me now, Liam,” Harry breathes out harshly, and Liam removes his fingers from Harry, earning a whiney protest from him. Liam lines himself up with Harry before rolling the condom on and putting more lube on himself. Liam looks down at Harry, pupils blown and lips a dirty shade of red, sees his hair wild and unruly as it’s pushed back, still under that dumb headband of his. Harry’s breathing harshly, body pinned up as he holds himself ready for Liam.

Liam enters Harry in one long, quick thrust and doesn’t move. Liam closes his eyes, arms positioned on either side of Harry’s head, Harry’s legs kept tight against his chest. Liam takes a moment to just soak it all in, for the fact that he’s _in_ Harry, to register into his brain. He wants to commit this to memory, doesn’t want to ever forget the first time he got to have sex with the guy he may or may not have real feelings for.

The slap to the back of his head wakes him out of his trance, and so does Harry’s voice saying, “Liam? Did you fall _asleep_? I won’t ever let you live it down if you did.” Liam opens his eyes again and locks his gaze with Harry before finally moving. He starts out with shallow thrusts, simply lazily rolling his hips without really pulling out to far. Harry’s making these delicious moans against Liam’s mouth, strings of profanities coming out nineteen to the dozen. Liam starts to pick up his pace, fucking Harry harder and faster, one of his hands braced against the headboard for support. Harry’s properly moaning now, these loud filthy sounds filling Liam’s ears and resonating themselves into his brain, rattling his spine.

“ _Fuck_ , Liam!” Harry shouts, when Liam hits his prostate on one really good thrust. There’s a thin layer of sweat that’s gathered across Harry’s skin, his cheeks red from the effort. Harry gets a hand around himself, pumping his dick in time with Liam’s thrusts as his moans get louder and filthier. The only sounds Liam can hear is the steady rush of blood in his ears as he nears his orgasm and the sporadic thumping of his heart is his chest, beating so fast he’s 98% sure Harry can hear it rattle against his rib cage.

“Li – Liam,” Harry’s voice comes out in a broken moan and then he’s spilling over his own fist, come landing on his chest and Liam’s. Harry’s body goes lax and Liam takes that to his advantage, lifting Harry’s hips off the bed higher to fuck him harder at a new angle and bring his own release that much closer.

Harry makes breathless moans at the new angle, his hands moving to grip harder at Liam’s thighs, trying to keep himself still.

“Fu – ck,” Liam croaks out before he’s releasing hard inside Harry, seeing bright white and stars behind his eyelids – feeling his heart just _stop_ for a moment as he comes. He collapses on top of Harry’s chest, the come still there, drying already. Liam doesn’t care – at least not until he can gain some feeling back into his toes. Its a few more minutes of breathing until Liam is rolling off Harry and pulling out, taking the condom off and throwing it aside in the waste basket.

“That was –“ Liam starts to say but is quickly quieted by a finger to his lips.

“You’ll ruin the moment,” Harry whispers, mostly into Liam’s hair. He moves himself around so his arms are wrapping around Liam’s body, making it impossible for him to escape. Harry presses his face against Liam’s chest, right where his heart is. “Let’s just sleep, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Liam agrees, yawning.

He falls asleep with a pretty boy in his arms and even though Liam’s not sure what’ll happen when he wakes up, he knows he’s never felt more content than right now.

 

Liam wakes up to the sound of some Aerosmith and the smell of pancakes in the morning. He opens his eyes and stretches, thinks maybe its Zayn and Niall cooking breakfast, before the events of last night come back to him tenfold. Liam rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. He’s gonna have to talk to Harry now.

Liam gets up out of bed and does his daily routine before heading out of his bedroom and to the kitchen. He’s met with a sight he doesn’t want to ever forget. Harry is cooking breakfast, wearing nothing but his sweats from yesterday, singing along to the song playing.

“I never pegged you for a fan of nineties rock ballads,” Liam says, small smile playing on his face.

Harry jumps at the sound of Liam’s voice, “Li – Whoa, Liam you scared me.” He’s flipping the pancakes now and placing them onto a plate. Harry turns the stove off and moves him and the pancakes towards the table.

“Good morning,” Harry greets, “how did you sleep?”

Liam blushes at the question, “Best sleep I’ve ever had, I think.”

“Me, too.” Harry says. He sits down at the table and grabs a pancake from the bunch. Liam follows suit, moving over and sitting across from Harry at the table.

“I overreacted –“

“I’m sorry –“

They both speak at the same time. There’s syrup running down Harry’s chin and Liam reaches over to wipe it with his thumb, before licking it into his mouth. “You first,” Liam says.

“I overreacted,” Harry speaks, “I shouldn’t have told you to fuck off and leave, that was rude of me.” He’s staring down at his plate of pancakes, twirling the syrup around with his fork.

“No it wasn’t,” Liam says, “I – I shouldn’t have written about you, I’m sorry.”

Harry laughs at that, really raucous laughter that makes his face light up again.

“What’s so funny?” Liam asks, trying to mask his hurt.

“It’s just,” Harry explains, “I read your first book, when it first came out. I fell in love with the story you told and you inspired me to come to terms with my own sexuality. I dreamed of one day meeting you and thanking you. And I almost lost my shit when you walked into the diner on that first day.”

“Really?” Liam questions, incredulous.

“Yeah,” Harry admits, not looking at Liam.

Liam gets up and moves over to Harry, sitting right next to him. Liam reaches out and grabs Harry’s hands, holding them tightly in his own.

“I am sorry, for writing about you, y’know, I should’ve asked.” Liam rubs his thumb against Harry’s palm. “Are we – are we okay?” Liam asks. “I just, I really like you a lot – like _a lot_ and I just want to know if this could be a thing I mean if not that’s cool I guess, you know, whatever.”

Liam looks up to meet Harry’s eyes and he’s got the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “I like you too, a lot.” He says, “Whatever you’re offering, I’ll take it.”

Liam smiles with Harry before grabbing his hands and leading him back to the bedroom, breakfast forgotten.

 

**_Epilogue_ **

“Hey, enough of that, there’s children here!”

“The only child here is you, Niall.” Liam shoots back, resuming his kiss with Harry. Niall’s sitting on the couch, with Zayn on his side the championship game on the TV. “Where’s the food at?” Niall questions, “The game starts in five!”

“Be patient, Niall.” Zayn laughs, patting Niall on the head.

“You won’t die, Niall, just wait!” Harry calls from where he and Liam are at in the kitchen.

“I won’t but you and Liam definitely will!” Niall calls back.

Liam laughs and continues cooking. Harry’s right by his side helping him along and Liam’s never felt happier. They finish cooking and bring the food over to the living room with many cheers from Niall and about thirty seconds to spare.

Liam takes a seat on the sofa, Niall and Zayn having moved to the floor. Harry sits down next to him, snuggling close into his side, the bowl of popcorn he carried balanced precariously on his knees. Harry takes some and feeds it to Liam, before eating some himself.

_This is nice_ , Liam thinks. He and Harry have been together for over a month and Liam has never felt any better. Liam turns to the side and watches Harry; he’s totally into the game, pulling on Liam’s wrist tighter when his team scores a goal and cursing under his breath at every bad pass. Liam could get used to this, knows that this is what he’s been wanting for a very long time. Liam thinks back to all those months ago, when he was living in such a big house all by himself, scared of moving forward with his second book and in desperate need of inspiration. _Everything happens for a reason,_ Niall once said and Liam laughs lowly under his breath.

“What’s so funny?” Harry whispers into his ear, the game down to the last final minutes.

“Nothing,” Liam breathes back, “just something I remember Niall saying.” He squeezes Harry’s hand and everything feels right.

When the game is over and Harry’s team wins, Liam kisses him big on the lips in celebration.

“Gross,” Niall says getting up. Liam meets his eyes and sees Niall give him a wink, he smiles in return. “Me and Zayn are gonna head out, see you guys later.”

“It’s Zayn and I,” Zayn corrects, holding Niall’s hand. “Oh sod off, you,” Niall replies, but he's smiling at Zayn as he leads him out of Liam’s house.

“We’re alone now,” Liam says, smirking. He takes his shirt off and hoists Harry up over his shoulders. He carries him to the bedroom and drops him on the bed. Liam jumps on hovering over Harry, just taking a moment to really look at him.

Harry moves up, right next to Liam’s ear and whispers, “Hey, Liam,” he starts, “The next time you want to write about me,” Harry breathes right against the shell of Liam’s ear. “All you have to do is ask.”

Liam laughs.

**-the end-**  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, loves. I appreciate it!


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